PRIDE (A collection of HP one-shots written for Pride Month)
by nymqhadora
Summary: A collection of HP one-shots written for the Pride Month Challenge on HPFC. A collection of fics written for various LGBTQplus identities and definitions.
1. Real (Demisexual)

**Disclaimer: The Harry Potter world and all Harry Potter characters are not mine. I do not make any money from this.**

A/N: This was written for The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, Round 2, for the Chudley Cannons, Chaser 1. This was also written for Ned's Pride Month Challenge on HPFC.

Prompt(s): Use the location assigned to your position as the setting for your story; Chaser 1: Beauxbatons. Write a Fanfic for each of the LGBTQplus identities and their definitions: Demisexual - Demisexuality is a sexual orientation in which someone feels sexual attraction only to people with whom they have an emotional bond.

Additional Prompt(s): (dialogue) "What a thing to say!", (word) contagious, (quote) Don't hate me because I'm beautiful. Hate me because I'm beautiful, smart and rich. — Calvin Keegan

. . .

Real

. . .

Fleur Delacour knew that she was beautiful. She knew she came from a wealthy family and she knew that she was a fairly powerful witch. She knew it and everyone around her knew it. It didn't change the fact that Fleur was reluctant to be intimate with anyone. Guys were constantly throwing themselves at her feet or asking her out in attempts to get into her knickers. She knew there was nothing there beyond the surface attraction and the thought that they would only want to be with her because of her looks made her sick.

Fleur was trying and failing to read her textbook on Charms because she couldn't get the thought of the night before out of her head. She was sitting on a bench close to the fountain in the middle of the park at Beauxbatons. She loved it there, a home away from home, and sometimes her little area in the park was what made her feel at ease. She could concentrate here. All of the other students knew not to bother her when she was sitting there lest they were subject to her sharp tongue and nearly frightening glare. For the life of her, though, she couldn't concentrate on her studies.

She had gone out with a handsome Portuguese boy the night before, hoping that his compliments and queries were genuine but they were not as she expected. They had enjoyed a lovely walk around the grounds and a picnic by the fountain, and when they retired to a small sitting room fit with plush settees and a warm fireplace, Fleur was confident that her feelings for him could develop into something more. She had even allowed him to kiss her. It was far from her first kiss but as usual, Fleur couldn't feel anything more than a flutter in her stomach. He had deepened the kiss and tried to coax her into more but the idea of being with someone intimately without feeling much more than an infatuation made her feel dirty. The boy had guided her hand to his groin and she could feel him harden under her touch. She flinched away.

"Don't do zat," she gasped trying to push him away, but he kept coming onto her as if she was begging him. Her heart dropped into her stomach and she stunned him just to get his hands off of her. Madame Maxine had walked into the room not a minute later having heard Fleur's distress. She frowned and punished the boy, she asked Fleur if she was okay, to which the girl had nodded grimly. She glared at the boy where he stood and stomped her way back to her dorm room.

Fleur pushed her Charms textbook away from her and sighed. Her gaze lingered on the fountain and she couldn't help but think about how Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel had met at her very school. It was a famous story at Beauxbatons and she longed for a love like theirs.

Her friends would talk about their love and sex lives like it was an appropriate thing to talk about. Fleur sometimes felt jealous that they were so carefree about it all. It was a contagious conversation it seemed. It was as if everyone in her year was talking about it. Her grandmother had told her since she was a young girl to be careful, that not all men were genuine with their affections and that for her, a part Veela, it would be difficult. Her friends would tell her to just do it, lose her virginity, be intimate with some random guy just to get it over with but Fleur couldn't help but feel ill every time she thought about it, bile would rise in her throat. She wanted to love someone, to have a real romantic bond with someone, before being intimate with them.

"Zer is nothing to it," One of her friends would say.

"Just spread your legs and let him do it," One of her more modern friends would say.

"What a thing to say!" Her best friend would pipe up trying to spare her the barbaric talk. She would gasp and cringe thinking about such a crude act. Fleur scoffed and grabbed her Charms textbook.

"Focus," she grumbled. Madame Maxine would get after her if she suffered in her studies. She was up for something big, Madame Maxine wouldn't tell her or her other classmates that were at the top of class, but she had told them enough to know that they were getting ready for something. Fleur glanced at the fountain once more, she thought of its significance, and smiled. She would love someone one day and they would love her. They would see past her Veela genetics and see her. Just her.

. . .

 **SEVERAL YEARS LATER**

Fleur smiled widely and watched as Bill Weasley looked over the fountain in the park at Beauxbatons. She had brought him with her to visit her little sister. He asked her about the fountain.

"Iz in honor of ze Flamels, zey met here," she said. Bill grinned at her.

"Did they fall in love here?" he asked, squeezing her hand in his. She couldn't help but blush and giggle.

"Zat is ze story," she replied. He caressed her cheek and then leaned in to kiss her. Fleur couldn't help the burst of arousal she felt at his kiss. He always made her feel weak in the knees; it was such a welcome change since it first happened. She deepened the kiss herself and then they drew apart for air. Bill was looking at her with such love that Fleur couldn't help but think that he was worth the wait. He had proposed to her the week before and Fleur had never been more certain of anything in her life.

"I love you," he whispered to her. Fleur smiled widely and her cheeks warmed.

"I love you too," she replied without hesitance. Bill chuckled and looked back at the fountain.

"I remember a time when you would look at the Goblins derisively and scoff at everything they said," he turned to her. Fleur crinkled her nose.

"Zat iz not me anymore," she replied. Bill chuckled and squeezed her hand again.

"I distinctly remember you saying something along the lines of 'Don't hate me because I'm beautiful. Hate me because I'm beautiful, smart, and rich.'" He looked teasingly at her. Fleur gently pushed him.

"You still loved me then," she replied teasingly. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her.

"I've always loved you," he replied. She couldn't help but grin as she led him along the path. She was grateful that her English was significantly better. It was definitely easier to talk to Bill and his family. Now she just needed to teach Bill French.

. . .

A/N: I hope this was okay. I went through so many rough drafts. I have never written Fleur or Beauxbatons.


	2. The Feeling is Mutual (Aromantic)

**Disclaimer: The Harry Potter world and all Harry Potter characters are not mine. I do not make any money from this.**

A/N: This was written for Ned's Pride Month Challenge, although Pride Month has passed, we are still writing fics to finish the challenge

Prompt(s): Write a Fanfic for each of the LGBTQplus identities and their definitions: Aromantic – Someone who has no romantic attraction to any gender.

. . .

The Feeling is Mutual

. . .

Cormac McLaggen knew from his very first romantic interaction that something was different about him. He had a crush on a young girl from Hufflepuff house, in his year, and very pretty. He had been nice to her ever since the beginning and when he had saved her from the torment of some Slytherin bullies, she had kissed him. To Cormac's chagrin, the crush had just been a crush. He didn't feel a flutter in his stomach or even a blush to his cheeks. He had felt nothing.

Several years later he learned the pleasures of the flesh. It was better than nothing and Cormac was quickly addicted. It's not like he enjoyed taking advantage of girls but if they offered, he took, he was greedy like that. Most of them knew that they wouldn't get anything more out of the mutual agreement than one night together. Others, however, thought it a sign of a relationship. Cormac didn't enjoy explaining the situation to those. They often left him in tears or slapped him across the face, either way it was not enjoyable.

When Cormac laid eyes on Hermione Granger, it was nothing more than a slight envy that she had the favor of Harry Potter but that quickly dissipated into indifference. When she grew into a young woman, however, Cormac could not help but notice. He had developed something that he had not felt in years, a crush.

At first, he had hoped that it was the beginning of something that had eluded him for years but after her constant rejection and brief lapse in judgment, he did not feel past that infatuation. It angered him more than he cared to admit.

Love. Love is what Cormac desired above all else. To feel such passion for an individual and to have that passion in return. For the longest time, Cormac accepted that such a phenomenon was just simply incapable of him. Then he met her, in a bar no less, and they had argued, teased, and mocked. She was sleeping now, in his bed. Her black hair across his pillow. She was beautiful. Their coupling was different in a way that Cormac couldn't put his finger on. It was intense and beyond what he could remember ever feeling.

He didn't remember her much from Hogwarts. She was one of the smart ones who steered clear of him but he did remember that she held a big torch for Harry Potter himself at one point. Romilda Vane was beautiful as well as witty. The previous night had proved it.

She moved in her sleep and began to blink the sleep from her eyes. She looked at him and smiled. He couldn't help but smile back. She giggled and he chuckled.

"Were you watching me sleep?" she asked, grinning up at him. Cormac chuckled and drew back so that she could get up. She padded across his apartment, naked, and into his restroom. He heard the toilet and then the shower. He laid back and groaned. He wasn't ready to get up.

. . .

Cormac laughed and watched as his mug of coffee refilled. After work and semi-awkward pleasantries, Romilda had agreed for late night coffee. They had walked into a new and modern 24-hour coffee shop in Diagon Alley. There were a few other people and it was past midnight.

"Why did you want to see me again?" she asked. Cormac was a little thrown off by the question but masked it with a smile.

"Why not?" he countered. Romilda smiled in challenge.

"For me it was a one night stand. I don't do relationships."

"Why is that?" he asked. She looked at him then scoffed. She stood abruptly, grabbed her bag and stormed out of the shop. Cormac followed her. "What did I say?" He grabbed her forearm and turned her to him. She sighed and yanked her arm out of his grip.

"I'm sorry but I don't do this. We barely know each other and I can tell you right here and now that I will never feel any romantic feelings for you. Last night was fun, yes, but that's all that it was." Cormac looked at her long and hard.

"The feeling is mutual," he let out. Romilda glared at him.

"Then why the fuck – "

"Because I felt something. Something different, something that I have never felt and I know it's not love or even romance. I know that. But it's fucking something. And I want to explore that. I need to," he gritted out. Romilda continued to glare but then her face softened. She sighed.

"The feeling is mutual."

. . .

A/N: I can't say that this is an accurate representation of Aromantic but as an Aromantic myself, this is what came out of me and this is how I feel sometimes.


End file.
